Chapter 906: The Great Battle at Nankou 6

After Gao Huaide's force drew near, it was perhaps the first time since the fierce fighting at Nankou that the Liao commander hesitated, wavering indecisively, his inner turmoil plainly visible. Between staking everything on one throw and playing it safe, making a choice was no easy matter—it required accurate judgment and decision-making based on the actual situation on the battlefield.

Yet, while this reasoning was sound and anyone with even a passing knowledge of military affairs knew it, when actually in the thick of it, making the most correct decision amid rapidly shifting circumstances was far from easy.

Yelu Cong hesitated. It had to be said, the stubborn resistance of the Han army at Nankou had gradually eroded his confidence. He could not guarantee that committing fresh troops would break them in one stroke.

And the Han army's reinforcements were already drawing near—the first to arrive were only the men from Niulan Mountain, which meant it was all but certain that the Han troops at Youzhou were also on their way. Given the rising morale of the Han army at Nankou, if he threw everything in and still failed to take the position, then without sufficient reserves, how would he deal with the fresh Han troops arriving from behind?

One practical reality was that after the prolonged bloody struggle, the Liao army had also become a weary force. Under such circumstances, without a force held in reserve to back them up, the entire army could very well be plunged into danger.

It was precisely under this psychological pressure that Yelu Cong ultimately chose not to stake everything on one throw. At this, the young Yelu Xiezhen raised objections, arguing that although the Han army's resistance was tenacious, they were in truth at the end of their strength—a crossbow bolt that had spent its force. Since enemy reinforcements had arrived, they should go all out to break them, then hunt down and destroy the relief force.

If they worried about what was ahead and fretted over what was behind, even if they left enough troops to deal with the Han army, by then Nankou would still be unbroken while Han reinforcements converged from all sides—that would plunge the Liao army into the dire straits of being caught between two fronts. That would be the real danger.

One had to understand that the Han army's reinforcements were not limited to one or two routes. Tanzhou was only a day's march away—if troops were split off from there as well, their "two hundred thousand" troops, who had fought bitterly for so long, would lose even their numerical advantage. And the Han army could continue dispatching reinforcements from other places.

Moreover, Yelu Xiezhen pointed out that in all past campaigns, the Pishi Army had always been deployed at the most critical moment, and now was precisely such a time. The Great King of the Northern Division had already divided his forces to contain the Han cavalry—how could he, as the commander of the main front, vacillate and look ahead and behind?

However, appreciative as Yelu Cong was of Yelu Xiezhen, under these circumstances he chose to trust his own judgment and refused to accept the counsel. This so infuriated Yelu Xiezhen that he stormed off to the south to find Yelu Wuzhi. But Yelu Wuzhi's reaction also seemed somewhat hesitant—he did not oppose Yelu Cong's decision. Perhaps it was age, a subconscious inclination toward caution and stability.

Though he had chosen the conservative path, Yelu Cong still issued strict orders, increasing the assault strength, pressing all units to intensify their attacks, wanting to test whether they could break through. The result was predictable—the more frantically they attacked, the more it bolstered the confidence of the Han defenders at Nankou, proving that reinforcements had truly arrived.

And with Chahan Stockade still holding firm and the Han army growing ever more valiant, Yelu Cong became even more convinced of his judgment—even committing more troops, breaking the enemy would still be no easy task.

In the autumn and winter seasons, darkness fell quickly, and especially at dusk, the evening sun slipped down even faster. Before long, only a lone sliver of afterglow hung in the sky, while beneath the heavens, mist gathered thick and heavy, and heaven and earth were shrouded in a hazy gloom.

Perhaps seeing the brutal fighting at Nankou as too cruel, the bleak twilight seemed to want both sides to cool down and sheathe their blades. Yet the effect was limited—the Liao army slowed its assault but did not stop attacking, instead setting up campfires around the perimeter, raising lanterns for illumination, and continuing to fight.

Because the Han army's defensive line had continuously contracted, the space available for the Liao army to deploy its forces had greatly diminished. The Liao army adjusted accordingly, rotating troops, letting each unit eat and rest in turn. Clearly, their determination to annihilate the Han army at Nankou still held.

In fact, the battle having progressed to this point had already vastly exceeded the expectations of soldiers on both sides. The Liao army's attacks had cost them dearly—how could they abandon this lightly?

As for the Han army, they held on with bitter endurance, gritting their teeth, and the news of reinforcements strengthened their conviction. They also seized the opportunity of the Liao army's adjustments to hurriedly reorganize themselves. In truth, by this moment, the Han army's condition had deteriorated to an extreme—hunger and exhaustion grew ever more severe with the fall of night, and many soldiers swinging their blades and weapons were visibly lacking in strength.

Darkness became a protective cloak for men, but it likewise deepened many people's unease. From top to bottom, they had held on this long only by relying on that conviction in their hearts. In truth, many ordinary soldiers did not even know what that conviction was. If it was for survival, then under the Liao army's siege, large numbers of soldiers had died in the fierce fighting—they simply watched their generals and officers persist, watched their comrades beside them persist...

In the eastern part of Nankou, several tens of thousands of cavalry from both the Han and Liao sides were still locked in combat. The Han army was at a disadvantage—under the blows of the Left Pishi Army, the barbarian cavalry had collapsed, leaving only Gao Huaide still holding on.

Fortunately, the fall of night provided cover, making the Liao general Yelu Sagei more cautious. To avoid being drawn into chaotic melee, he resolutely maintained surveillance and interception of Gao Huaide's force, faithfully carrying out the mission Yelu Wuzhi had given him.

Gao Huaide naturally sensed this as well, and so all he could do was pin down this extraordinarily formidable Liao cavalry. As for breaking the siege, that would have to wait until other reinforcements arrived.

Though they knew Nankou was in dire straits, Guo Rong and Zhao Kuangyin had picked up their pace but had not thrown all caution to the wind. The fifty thousand Han troops coming north from Youzhou, though coordinated infantry and cavalry, were primarily infantry.

A hundred li of road did not look far, but one could not exhaust the soldiers' strength just to hurry. Both men were well-versed in military affairs, each with command experience, and knew full well that if they rushed ahead recklessly, even if they arrived, the soldiers would not be able to preserve their combat effectiveness—that would not only fail to relieve the crisis at Nankou but might instead invite a Liao attack and plunge themselves into danger.

The situation of a crossbow bolt at the end of its flight was precisely what Chai and Zhao sought to avoid at all costs, and this caused the Youzhou relief force to arrive more slowly.

But before the Youzhou reinforcements arrived, someone made a move—used their wits—and that was Han Hui, the man in charge of Changping. As mentioned before, there were over fifteen thousand people in Changping city, though mostly laborers, and the troops were not elite.

But this was still a considerable force—drawn up in formation, they would be a dense, imposing mass. Having noticed that the Liao army besieging Nankou, even while attacking, had not relaxed its vigilance—splitting off troops to block Gao Huaide the moment he arrived—

Han Hui realized that the Liao army was on guard against the Great Han's reinforcements. So he arranged for three thousand men, each carrying banners and torches, to secretly leave the city, and at five li out, make a great show of force—waving banners, brandishing torches, raising a huge commotion—marching north, then returning to Changping city.

Three thousand men managed to create the effect of thirty thousand. Such blatant display of force was naturally detected by the Liao scouts roaming north of Changping city, who flew back to report to their commanders.

Learning that another Han relief force of several tens of thousands had arrived and entered Changping city, the Liao side immediately reacted. Yelu Wuzhi and Yelu Cong had already joined forces, and they conferred on how to deal with this great Han army approaching from the south.

Gao Huaide's force was being watched by Yelu Sagei, but this Han army could certainly not be taken lightly. And upon learning that it had not come directly to relieve Nankou but had instead chosen to enter Changping city, the two men became even more wary.

Clearly, the Han general leading this force was very "rational"—having come a long way, he was in no hurry to engage. Under the current circumstances, his choice to rest and prepare in Changping was more alarming to the two men than a direct attack. After all, an arrow drawn but not yet loosed was more dangerous, and more intimidating.

After their discussion, Yelu Wuzhi and Yelu Cong immediately decided to have the Liao general Yelu Sha lead forty thousand cavalry south to Changping to set up a blocking position and keep watch on that Han relief force. Even with this force split off, the Liao army at Nankou still numbered over one hundred thousand—twice the Han defenders.

However, because of the developments at Changping, the Liao army finally slowed its assault on the Han forces at Nankou to a complete halt. First, night was genuinely unfavorable for launching attacks—it was the time when accidents and dangers were most likely; second, the Liao soldiers had fought hard for an entire day and urgently needed rest.

Though this would also give the Han army at Nankou a chance to catch their breath, of two evils one chose the lesser. The Han army had held on desperately for so long, their strings stretched taut the whole time—continuing the fierce assault might not yield results anyway. If they stopped attacking and let the enemy relax, their will to continue fighting might diminish. Of course, this was merely an experiment.

Moreover, if it came to resting, the Liao army at Nankou held the local advantage. They had food and drink, and though much of the Han army's grain and weaponry in the outer stockades had been burned, the Liao army had also captured a great deal. In fact, many of the siege weapons and protective gear the Liao troops used had been seized from the Han army.

As for the remaining tens of thousands of Han troops contracted into the central stockade, they were truly short of food and medicine, with only the basic rations of the central stockade to sustain them—not even enough for all the soldiers to eat their fill.

As the Liao army slowed its attacks and shifted to besieging and resting on the foundations of the former Han stockades, the great battle at Nankou finally came to a temporary halt for the first time. The cries of battle diminished, gradually fading to nothing, and both armies, like badly wounded beasts, licked their wounds, gathered their strength, and prepared for the next life-or-death struggle.

By comparison, the Han army's wounds were heavier. And with the Liao army's cessation of hostilities, the Han soldiers in the central stockade did indeed relax somewhat, especially the lower-ranking officers and men.

As the commander of the main army, An Shenqi dared not relax in the slightest. Though the Liao army had sheathed its attacking claws, the crisis was far from over—if he truly let his guard down, it would be fatal.

Personally leading his men on inspection tours of the various camps, personally encouraging the soldiers and soothing military morale, at this moment he had ample confidence, because reinforcements had arrived—otherwise, why would the Liao army have stopped fighting?

Of course, An Shenqi also knew that although reinforcements had come, they clearly could not yet pose a fatal threat to the Liao army, or else the enemy would not have chosen to besiege rather than showing any intention of withdrawing. This, naturally, was something he could not tell the officers and men below.

Around the central stockade were piled countless corpses—a bloody scene like a Shura hell, made all the more terrifying under the shadow of night. During the day, fighting for one's life in desperate slaughter, hot blood surging, blood rushing to the head, all senses were blotted out by the carnage. But once things calmed down, an atmosphere of grief began to brew.

On his inspection tour reaching the southern camp, An Shenqi suddenly heard a burst of weeping, extremely miserable. Taking men to investigate, he found a group of laborers who could not bear the cruelty of the battlefield—their minds had collapsed, numbering over two hundred.

At this, An Shenqi displayed extreme severity and coldness, immediately ordering the two hundred-plus men seized and swiftly executed. Such ruthless measures instantly suppressed the emotions of all around—whether soldiers or laborers—who were affected by the sight.

Though somewhat cruel, it had to be said that An Shenqi's action was undoubtedly correct.

The fighting at Nankou suddenly quieted, but over at Changping city, tension remained. With forty thousand Liao troops marching south to press upon the city, relaxing was hard. Yet at this, Han Hui revealed a relieved expression and could not help but burst into a few laughs.

Dang Jin, who had retreated into the city to recover from his wounds, saw this and asked curiously: "General Han, why are you laughing?"

Han Hui was still a civil official, but because of his conduct in the city since the great battle began—his command and coordination—he resembled a seasoned general, inspiring confidence, and those around him had changed how they addressed him, calling him General. Dang Jin followed suit.

Hearing the question, Han Hui explained: "Our ruse of feigned troops has worked. The Liao army has split off tens of thousands to deal with Changping, further weakening their forces at Nankou. Prince Chenliu and the others—their crisis is temporarily resolved, no more fear of annihilation!"

Hearing this, Dang Jin subconsciously nodded, then grinned, showing his teeth: "Who'd have thought that brain of yours, 'Tuotuo'er,' worked so well!"

Dang Jin's words were actually somewhat rude. On ordinary days, when others called his son by that nickname, Han Tong would greet them with a flurry of fists. But Han Hui was a man of considerable cultivation—he only smiled faintly, not taking offense, and said: "For now, we only need to hold Changping city and await His Majesty's follow-up reinforcements!"

And they did not have to wait long. In the cold night of deep autumn, Guo Rong and Zhao Kuangyin, leading the great army, finally arrived at Changping. Han Hui immediately sent men to make contact, and upon learning the situation, without the slightest hesitation, Guo Rong and Zhao Kuangyin immediately decided to enter the city and rest.

Mindful of Yelu Sha's force, Zhao Kuangyin personally led the iron cavalry to provide flanking cover, ensuring complete safety. And the arrival of these fifty thousand Youzhou infantry and cavalry caused an even greater shock to the Liao army.